B is for your blindfold (that keeps you dark as death)
by SuperWoman0124
Summary: Sherlock and John go out on a special date. Just some fun fluff.


Notes: Image Credit goes to: Screenshot, Season 04, Episode 02, BBC

In October of '14, I began a collection on Ao3 titled "The Abc's of Kinky Sex" (based upon The Lords of Acid song of the same name) where I took each of the 26 letters (Different ships & fandoms) and made a fic about each line. It took me almost 7 months to finish, but I never posted Z. Doing a little facelift and posting to this website as well on FREAKY FRIDAYS! Enjoy!

Original Notes: This is my first fic for the Sherlock fandom. Hope I did it justice!

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"Seriously, where are we going?" Sherlock stumbled down the street, pulling at the cotton over his eyes.

Before they left 221B Baker, John had told him to get one of Sherlock's scarves. Preferably; John's favorite red plaid one. John pulled the scarf over Sherlock's eyes and helped him with his coat, pushing his solid frame into the cold nighttime London air.

John wrapped his arm around Sherlock's hip and gave it a tight squeeze as a precaution for the approaching gap between the sidewalk and the street. Sherlock stepped down and John stuck his thumb out for hail for a taxi.

"What's all this, John? Hm?"

"Well," John placed his hand on top of both of Sherlock's and tapped lightly. "Stop trying to use your wonderful powers of deduction and just sit back and enjoy the ride, will you?"

Sherlock nodded sharply. Anything for his soldier-doctor turned lover.

The taxi pulled up and halted. John got out and paid the driver, offering an open hand at Sherlock and tapping his fingers. When they finally got to the sidewalk, John turned to Sherlock and leaned up to kiss Sherlock directly on the mouth, smiling like a madman.

"What was that for?"

John untied the scarf and Sherlock finally saw where they were. The Phoenix Palace. Where they had their first date. It's only fitting for a 3-year anniversary.

Sherlock smiled down at John handsomely.

"Why didn't we just take the Baker Street tube?"

John rolled his eyes. He always has to complain about something.

"I didn't think it would be wise to take a blindfolded man-" John hip bumped him lightly " _ **my**_ blindfolded man onto a busy tube. Someone would try to take advantage. Come on, Sherlock. We have reservations to keep."

They sat down to a table in the center of the room. The restaurant was entirely abandoned. Not that it wasn't good food, bullocks service or anything of the sort, but John had planned all this. Every bit. and bought the place out.

Sherlock began noticing more and more now that he had his sight. John had perspiration running off his forehead and his heart was slightly elevated. His handkerchief in his pocket was ruffled; something John would never do incidentally, which meant he was nervous. He began to wonder why Watson was so nervous when a beautiful young waitress came by, refilling their water glasses.

"Would you like some wine?" John coughed quietly into his closed fist.

"Yes, please." He nodded to the waitress. "White. Montrachet, if you have it."

The waitress's ponytail bobbed as she nodded and went off to get it right away.

"Why did you do all this for me, John?"

"Because, Sherlock-" John took Sherlock's hands into his shaking fingers and squeezed lightly. "Because I love you and you saved me. Saved my life. Saved my everything."

"I didn't-"

"You did. Rather you like it or not." John folded his hands into his lap. "And that's why we're here. Why I've done all this. As a thank you for the past 4 years of my life."

The waitress came back to the table with a glass of wine and an ice bucket, halting the conversation. When she set it down, Sherlock went to pick it up when the light of the glass struck his eye. In the bottom of the glass sat a golden band, simple and tasteful.

"And that's also why I'm asking you to marry me." John gave a handsome smile.

Sherlock picked up the glass and inspected the ring. The bubbles formed around the oxygen around the ring, popping at the surface.

"Why?" Sherlock glared across the table.

John was shaken out of his pleasant demeanor.

"Wh-Why, what?" He leaned forward. "Why do I want to marry you?"

" _ **Yes.**_ "

"Sherlock-" John raised his pointer and index finger into his temple and pushed, suddenly fascinated with his lap as he tried to breathe through his anger. "Why must you ruin everything? Honestly. Sherlock, I've told you, time and time again." John looked up and into Sherlock's eyes. "I love you. I love you more than anything that this world could concoct. I love you more than being a doctor or a soldier. You have been the light of my life these past four years and-and..."

John stopped when Sherlock started to giggle.

Sherlock dug the band out of the glass with his fingers.

"I know all that, John. When I said yes to your question, I meant yes, I will marry you. You didn't have to do all this though. You ruined a nice glass of Montrachet in the process."

"You saucy bugger." Was all John could say before he raced across the table and kissed his lover wholeheartedly.

"I think it's your turn for the blindfold when we get home." Sherlock winked at John.


End file.
